


Hijacked

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13548732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: A plane flying out of Athens, Greece is hijacked. On that plane is Pepper Potts, fiancee of Tony Stark. Under strict instructions that he is not to come near the plane or Pepper will be killed, Stark sends in Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Clint Barton to save her. Unbeknownst to Stark, someone important to Steve is on that plane as well. You.





	Hijacked

“Do you know who’s in first class?” Wanda whispered.

Despite having worked for the airline for almost five years, having a celebrity on board was always exciting. It was the one bright spot in what was sometimes a stressful job.

“No, who?” you giggled, anxious to hear who it was this time.

“Pepper Potts,” she answered.

“Tony Stark’s fiancee?” you gasped. “What the hell is she doing flying commercial?”

“I heard her telling her assistant it was something about some kind of engine problem on Stark’s private jet. I guess she has to get back to New York right away, so commercial it is.”

“Was she nice?” you inquired.

“Really sweet,” Wanda nodded. “Even with that giant diamond ring weighing down her finger.” Her laughter followed her out of the galley.

You went back to work loading the drink cart, anxious to get started. The passengers got antsy if their drinks weren’t served on time and you weren’t in any mood to listen to their bitching. Fortunately, the plane was only about half full, which was a common occurrence on a mid-week flight out of Greece. You piled the last of the glasses on the cart and wedged yourself between it and the wall. That was when you heard the first gunshot.

* * *

Tony was close to drunk, the closest to drunk Steve had ever seen him. He was celebrating, they all were, celebrating the completion of the Avengers Compound. No more living in Stark tower, looming over the people below. Steve was looking forward to moving out of the city.

Steve was about to pour another drink, and one for Tony, when Happy burst through the door, a grim look on his face. He went directly to Tony, leaned over him and whispered in his boss’s ear. Tony’s glass fell to the table, the scotch spilling onto the hardwood floor.

“What is it?” Bucky asked.

Before he could answer the question, Tony’s cell phone rang, the sound ominous in the suddenly quiet space.

“Boss, it’s Ezekiel Stane.” Friday’s voice echoed through the room.

Tony cleared his throat, his face tight and pinched. “Put him through.”

“Mr. Stark?”.

“Zeke,,” Tony said. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped tightly between his legs. “It’s been a long time.”

“I’m not interested in small talk, Mr. Stark. I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m listening.”

“As I’m sure Mr. Hogan has told you, the plane Ms. Potts is flying on has been hijacked. If you wish to see her alive again, Mr. Stark, you will follow my instructions implicitly.” What followed was a set of complicated instructions all leading to one conclusion - Tony would pay a fifty million dollar ransom, to be wired to an offshore, untraceable bank account or Pepper, along with everyone on the plane, would die.

“Now then,” Stane continued, “I’m sure you’re thinking you can rescue her, put on your little red and gold suit and fly up here and save her. But I’m warning you, don’t try it. Not only will we kill Pepper and the other passengers, but you as well. Don’t test me, Mr. Stark. Your little band of misfits, your Avengers, they can’t help you. If you want to save Ms. Potts’ life, you’ll do as I ask. You have eight hours.”

The call disconnected.

* * *

“You’re staying here, Tony,” Steve said. “I’m done discussing it.” He adjusted the shoulder harness, tightening it so it wouldn’t slip off. “Besides, if Ezekiel calls again, you need to be here, answering that call. Let us handle this.”

“Pepper is on that plane -”

“Which is exactly why you’re not going. You’re emotionally invested. That makes it not only unsafe for you, but for Pepper and all of us. You’re going to stay here and let me, Clint, and Bucky take care of it. I promise you we’ll be in constant communication.” He tapped the black earpiece in his ear. “Promise.”

“Nat’s on the plane with Pepper.” Happy came through the door, a small tablet in his hand. He turned it around so they could see it. “I pulled the security footage from the airport -”

“I pulled the security footage,” Friday interrupted.

“- and there’s Nat,” Happy scowled, pointing to the tablet’s screen, “boarding the plane with Pepper.”

“Why was she flying commercial?” Clint asked.

“Something was wrong with the jet and she needed to get back,” Tony said. “She wouldn’t wait, insisted on coming back via commercial flight. I’ve got people crawling all over it right now.”

“Sabotage?” Bucky asked.

“Probably,” Tony nodded.

“Quinjet’s ready,” Agent Hill’s voice came over the intercom.

The team grabbed their gear and started for the ramp, but Tony grabbed Steve’s arm, stopping him.

“Cap, wait.”

Steve clapped him on the shoulder. “I know, Tony,” he murmured. “She’s gonna be okay. Nat won’t let anything happen to her. And we’ll bring her home safe.”

Bucky and Clint were already on the quinjet, Agent Hill in the pilot’s seat. They were in the air in less than two minutes, Hill flying while the three of them studied the plane’s schematics.

“We should intercept the plane in less than an hour,” Hill said.

“Stealth mode?” Clint asked.

“Set to engage once we’re two miles out,” was Hill’s reply. “Mid-air transfer will occur once we’re less than a hundred yards from the plane.”

“Give us the details on the plane and the flight,” Bucky said.

“It’s a Boeing 747, British Airways, flight 192 out of Athens,” Clint said.

“British Airways?” Steve asked, sitting up straighter in his seat. “This is a British Airways flight?”

Bucky shot a glance his way, a question on his face, but Steve glared at him, shaking his head the tiniest bit. He tapped the schematic on the table. “Go ahead.”

“Plane’s not even half full, four flight attendants, two pilots,” Clint continued. “There’s approximately a hundred people onboard, including Pepper and Natasha. Access panel is on the top of the plane, near the back. Hill is going to override the system long enough to get us in, stop the pilots from getting notification of an open hatch. We’re going to drop into a small crawl space, not much room, but enough. We have no idea how many hijackers are on board. Best guess? Maybe ten, but it could be more, could be less.”

“Weapons?” Bucky asked.

“Unknown, but we need to assume guns, maybe explosives,” Clint explained.

“Casualties?” Steve asked, his heart in his throat.

“No idea,” Clint shrugged. “The pilot hasn’t even radioed this in. Tony has been the only one they’ve contacted. We’re literally flying blind. Cap?”

Steve tried to shake off the weight that had settled on his shoulders and concentrate on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Once we’re on board, we need to assess the situation. How many hijackers, what kind of weapons, exact number of passengers. Ideally we take out the hijackers with minimal bloodshed. Remember, we’re gonna be on a plane, so we have to be careful about firing weapons, affecting the air pressure. Tight, enclosed space, no room for mistakes.”

“Twenty minutes, Cap,” Hill said.

“Roger that,” Steve said.

They dispersed, Clint heading to the front of the quinjet to coordinate their drop into the Boeing 747, Bucky and Steve to the weapons hold.

“Steve?” Bucky whispered, low enough that only his friend could hear him. “Is she -?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “I’m pretty sure she is.”

“You okay to do this?” Bucky asked.

“Of course,” Steve nodded. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’re emotionally invested,” Bucky said. “You wouldn’t let Tony come because it’s Pepper and now you’re saying you’re okay even though it’s Y/N on that plane? Your only concern is going to be getting her out of harm’s way.”

“No, it won’t,” Steve snapped. “I can do this.”

“Don’t forget you’re on a mission, Steve,” his best friend said. “Our responsibility is to everyone on that plane, not just Pepper and Y/N. Everyone. If you can’t handle that, maybe you should stay behind.”

“I got this, Buck,” Steve replied. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Can’t help it,” Buck chuckled. “Spent our lives worrying about you, can’t just shut it off.” He clapped Steve on the shoulder before joining Clint and Maria at the front of the quinjet.

“I got this,” Steve muttered under his breath. “I got this.”

* * *

Your hands shook as you put the glass on the tray, making it rattle against the metal tray. You swiped at the tear sliding down your cheek before easing around the cart and making your way through economy toward first class. Sitting in the second row back, directly across from Pepper Potts was the man who had ordered the hijacking of the plane.

Ezekiel Stane, son of Obadiah Stane. The young man had disappeared shortly after his father’s death, only to reappear a couple of years later using stolen Stark technology in an attempt on Tony Stark’s life. He’d escaped capture, reappearing every now and then with a threat either subtly or not-so-subtly directed toward Stark.

You stopped between Stane and Pepper, handed the full glass of scotch to Ezekiel and the ice wrapped in a towel to Ms. Potts. She took it and pressed it to her cheek with a grimace. The tiny redhead in the seat next to her was gripping the armrests so hard her knuckles were white, murder in her eyes. You suspected the only thing keeping her from doing anything was the gun Stane kept pointed at Pepper’s midsection.

He opened his laptop, typed something into it, and shook his head. “Still nothing Ms. Potts. Perhaps Tony doesn’t love you as much as you imagined. His money obviously means more to him than you.”

Pepper squeezed her lips together in a thin line, but she didn’t say anything, just stared straight ahead with the ice pack pressed to her cheek. You returned to the galley at the back of the plane, glancing over your shoulder every couple of feet, eyeing the hijackers and the frightened passengers as you passed them. You put the tray away and sat in the jump seat in the corner, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes squeezed closed, sending up a silent prayer that Steve was on his way.

You’d met Steve Rogers - Captain America - six months earlier in a restaurant not far from Stark Tower. He’d been sitting outside, sketching, a contemplative look on his face. You’d sat at your table, watching him for more than half an hour, quietly sipping from the glass in front of you. You’d been about to leave when he’d risen from the table and sat across from you, offering to buy you another drink. Embarrassed that you’d been caught staring, you almost got up and ran away, but Steve had convinced you to stay. You’d sat at the restaurant for another three hours, talking, laughing, eating, and drinking. The two of you had decided that would be your first date.

You’d been dating the super soldier for almost seven months. By mutual agreement, the two of you had kept your relationship a secret. Steve was worried about what could happen if someone found out you were his girlfriend and you weren’t interested in being in the spotlight. At the moment, you’d never been more grateful that no one, especially Ezekiel Stane, knew you were in love with Captain America and he with you. Otherwise you’d be sitting out there beside Pepper Potts.

You had overheard Stane’s phone call to Tony Stark, you knew that he was asking for millions of dollars. But you also knew he was lying. He wasn’t holding Pepper Potts hostage for money; he had no intention of letting her walk away alive. That was nothing more than a ruse, a distraction meant to keep him from finding out the truth, keep him from finding out what Stane really had planned.

Ezekiel Stane was going to take out Tony Stark and the Avengers once and for all. He was going to crash this plane into Stark Tower, detonating the nuclear bomb that was currently in the cargo hold. He wanted to watch Stark and everything he’d worked for go up in flames.

* * *

 

“Got it,” Hill called from the pilot seat. “Get ready.”

The quinjet was hovering five hundred feet above the Boeing 747, stealth mode engaged. Clint opened the hatch in the back while Steve attached the metal cable to his belt. When Clint gave the signal, he dropped through the hatch, falling rapidly toward the plane. Twenty-five feet before he hit it, he tapped a button on his belt, the cable tightening and slowing his descent. He landed softly on the tips of his toes, right on the cover of the access panel.

“Now, Cap.” Hill’s voice filled his head via the comm in his ear.

Thirty seconds later, the cover was open and he was slipping inside the plane, the metal cable released and on its way back to the quinjet. Three minutes after that, Clint and Bucky were in the plane with him and the panel cover was back in place. Steve ordered Hill to ease off and maintain a steady distance, stealth mode engaged.

Steve led the way through the plane, easily remembering the layout based on the schematics they’d looked at. When he was over what he thought was the galley at the back of the plane, he signaled Clint, who quickly moved up beside him, removed a small tool from his belt, and drilled a two inch hole, allowing them to see what was happening below without opening a ceiling panel. He peered through it.

“There’s a woman in the jump seat, flight attendant,” he whispered. “Can’t see anyone else.” He moved aside so first Bucky, than Steve, could get a look.

Steve let out the breath he felt like he’d been holding since they’d gotten on the plane. It was Y/N. Bucky caught his eye as he pulled back and he nodded, earning himself a grimace from his best friend. He ignored it.

“Clint. Bucky.”

Nothing more needed to be said, this had already been discussed. Clint would make his way to the front of the Boeing 747, drilling holes every few feet. He and Bucky would get a count of not only the hijackers and their weapons, but the number of passengers as well.

He waited until Clint and Bucky had made their way a few yards down the plane, then he opened one of the ceiling panels and slipped through it, dropping to the floor directly in front of Y/N.

Her mouth fell open, but before she could say anything or make a sound, Steve grabbed her, one arm sliding around her waist and a hand over her mouth, pushing her further into the corner, out of sight.

“Hey doll,” he murmured. “You okay?”

She nodded, tears in the corner of her eyes, her hands on his wrists.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “What about the other passengers? Has anyone else been hurt?”

“Y-yes,” she nodded. “We had a U.S. Marshal on board. They shot him.” She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth.

Steve wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. He wished he could stay there and comfort her for as long as she needed, but he had a job to do. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out an earpiece. “I’m gonna need your help, okay? This earpiece will put you in contact with my whole team - me, Clint, and Bucky. All you have to do is press this button and talk, not even above a whisper, and one of us will hear you.” He shot a look over his shoulder, before turning back to her and tucking the com into her ear. “I gotta go before they see me. We’re gonna get you guys out of this, okay? I promise.” He released her.

“Steve, wait.” She grabbed his hand. “Check the cargo hold.” The shuffle of footsteps moving toward them interrupted anything else she might have said.

He nodded, took a step and pushed off, leaping up to grab the support beam and pull himself back into the ceiling. Just as he put the panel back in place, one of the hijackers rounded the corner.

He grabbed Y/N by the arm, swinging her around to look at him, her shoulder hitting the wall. “Who were you talking to?” he demanded.

“N-no one,” Y/N stammered. “I-I talk to myself when I’m, uh, when I’m nervous.”

The man pushed her onto the jump seat, his hand digging into her shoulder, holding her in place as he yanked open several closed doors, slamming them closed when he realized no one was inside. Steve would have gone back through the panel if Bucky hadn’t put a hand on his leg, stopping him.

“Steve, you can’t,” Bucky whispered. “We need to secure hijackers first, get to Pepper and Nat.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “I know,” he sighed.

“Cap?” Clint’s voice came over the com. “I need you in the cargo hold. ASAP.”

* * *

“It’s a nuclear bomb?” Bucky muttered. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“This is about more than money,” Steve said, crouching beside the bomb. “How the hell did they get this onboard?”

“My guess,” Clint said, “they’ve got someone inside helping them. Who knows? But you’re right, this isn’t about getting money from Tony. There’s more to it than that.”

“Y/N told me to check the cargo hold,” Steve said. “Maybe she overheard something, saw something. I gave her an earpiece.”

“Who the hell is Y/N?” Clint asked.

“His girlfriend,” Bucky said helpfully. “She’s a flight attendant and she’s on this plane.”

“Wait, what? You have a girlfriend? Since when?” Clint shook his head.

“He’s had a girlfriend for months and none of us knew,” Bucky added.

“You knew,” Clint pointed out.

“Well, yeah, but he can’t hide anything from me -”

“And she’s on the plane. Well, fuck.” Clint threw his hands up, obviously irritated.

Steve shot a dirty look at both of them. “All right, that’s enough,” he snapped. He pressed a finger to his ear. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

“Y-yes,” came her quiet response.

“You knew the bomb was in the cargo hold, do you know what they’re planning? Have you heard anything?” he asked.

“Stane wants to hit Stark Tower,” she whispered. “Said he wants to see Tony Stark and his Avengers go down in flames.”

“Shit.” Clint blew out a breath.

Steve turned to Bucky and Clint. “Tell me what you two saw.”

“Looks like there’s nine hijackers, including Zeke Stane, all loaded to kill, automatic weapons, bulletproof vests, knives, grenades. Look like mercenaries,” Bucky explained. “There’s a hundred people on board, including pilots and flight attendants. Pilots are in the cockpit, one gunman in there with them. Flight attendants are all towards the back of the plane. Pepper is in first class, second row back, Nat’s beside her, next to the window. Ezekiel is sitting across the aisle, gun pointed at Pepper’s midsection, open laptop on the seat beside him. There are two other hijackers in first class, one standing in front of the cockpit door, his gun pointed at Nat. The other is standing between first class and business class, facing the cockpit. There are no other passengers in first class, everyone else is back in business class or economy, which is where the remaining hijackers are.”

“Hill, do you copy?” Steve asked.

“Go ahead, Cap,” Hill said.

“How long until the plane gets to New York?”

“Two hours,” was her reply.

“We need to get moving,” Bucky said.

“Bucky, you and I are gonna start at the back of the plane, move forward, take out the hijackers, secure the passengers. It’s gotta be quick, we need to take Stane by surprise,” Steve said. “Clint, you stay here and see what you can do about this damn bomb.”

* * *

Steve was on the plane. He was here and he was going to save the day. You wanted to breathe easier, wanted to relax, but as long as there were men standing in front of you with guns, you couldn’t. You kept glancing at the ceiling, kept waiting for Steve to drop through, shield in hand, ready to save you and everyone else on the plane. If anyone could do it, it was Steve and his friends.

“Y/N?” Steve’s voice echoed through your head.

“Yeah?” you whispered, your hand over your mouth.

“Is the curtain between first class and economy closed?” he asked.

“Yes,” you answered.

“Okay, stay put,” he said. “Let me know if anyone heads your way.”

A few minutes later, the ceiling panel above your head moved and then Steve was dropping to his feet in front of you. He was completely silent; you didn’t hear a sound when he landed. His friend Bucky, the guy with the metal arm, was right behind him. Steve took a second to peer around the corner before he and Bucky moved as one entity, rounding the corner, Bucky with his gun raised and Steve with his shield in front of him. A few seconds later, you heard a thump, then Bucky was dragging a body around the corner and shoving him into one of the empty bathrooms. He shut the door, then dragged the drink cart in front of it, blocking it. He and Steve moved down the aisle, to the obvious astonishment of the passengers, taking out the hijackers one by one until they reached the closed curtain between business and first class. They hadn’t made a sound, nothing that would draw suspicion anyway, and miraculously the passengers had stayed quiet as well. You guessed that fearing for your life could do that.

Steve reappeared by your side, his hand finding yours, intertwining your fingers, and squeezing gently. He was only there for the briefest moment, then he was gone, helping Bucky bind and gag the hijackers before securing them in the tiny restrooms and using the drink cart to keep them in.

“Four more,” Bucky muttered, eyes narrowed. “Three in first class, with their guns pointed at Pepper and Nat. It’s gonna be tricky getting in there without either of them getting hurt.” He dragged in a deep breath. “We could just barge in, guns blazing, hope for the best?”

Steve shook his head. “No guns blazing, Bucky. Not only could Pepper get hurt, but a stray bullet could hit the fuselage. What we need to do is get Nat’s attention, let her know we’re here. Jesus, I wish she had a gun.”

“I could get her one,” you spoke up.

Steve spun around to look at you. “What? No, absolutely not.”

“I can do it,” you insisted.

“I can’t let you,” Steve shook his head. “What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” you said. “At least let me try.”

You grabbed the tray you’d just put away, made another drink, as well as another ice pack and added several water bottles to it. You tossed a towel on the tray alongside the drinks and ice pack, then turned back to Steve.

“Give me a gun.”

“Y/N, no -”

Bucky dropped a gun into your hand, with barely a glance at his friend, then he added an earpiece, just like the one Steve had given you. You put them both on the tray and tucked the towel around them. You sucked in a deep breath, pushed past Steve and Bucky, and made your way back down the aisle, sweat on your brow and your hands shaking. You weren’t sure you could do this, but you were sure the hell going to try.

You quickly ducked through the curtain, careful to keep from opening it too far. You cleared your throat to get the attention of the man standing guard, nodding toward the tray when he glared at you. He moved out of your way with a heavy sigh, gesturing for you to go past him.

“Thank you,” you murmured, earning nothing more than a grunt in return.

You eased down the aisle, praying Stane and the other hijackers couldn’t hear your heart pounding. Stane was sitting in his seat, staring at his open laptop, the gun forgotten on the seat beside him. You set the scotch on the tray pulled down in front of him, then you turned to Pepper and Natasha.

“Ms. Potts,” you said, “I thought you might want another ice pack and a bottle of water.” You leaned down and held the tray in front of Pepper. You grabbed the edge of the towel and pulled it the tiniest bit, enough to expose the gun and earpiece. Natasha’s eyes widened. She subtly glanced at the hijackers, before reaching up and grabbing the gun, along with one of the water bottles. She slid the gun beneath her leg, under the edge of her skirt, opened her water bottle, and took a sip, then with one more glance at the hijackers, she took the earpiece and slipped it in her ear.

Pepper murmured thank you as she took the other water bottle and the ice pack. You nodded, then as nonchalantly as possible, you made your way out of first class and back into business class, pulling the curtain closed behind you again. You hurried down the aisle, practically falling into Steve’s arms, your entire body shaking, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

“It’s done,” you whispered.

“Nat, can you hear me?” Bucky asked.

“Yes,” was her quiet answer.

Steve and Bucky exchanged a look. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” Bucky said.

* * *

Once Steve and Bucky were in place, Steve signaled Y/N. He hated that he had needed her help, hated that he was  _ using _  her, but there wasn’t any other choice. The bomb was armed, had been armed remotely just a few minutes earlier, according to Clint. Time was running out.

Y/N’s scream filled the plane, echoing off the walls, drawing startled gasps from some of the other passengers. The curtain between first and business class was practically ripped off of the rod when one of the hijackers from first class burst through it.

Bucky leapt out from behind the seat, hitting the man dead center in the chest, sending him flying backwards ten or fifteen feet. He fell to the floor, maybe unconscious, though most likely dead. Steve crossed the threshold between first and business class, shield raised, and slammed into the hijacker that had been standing in front of the cockpit door. The man stumbled back a few steps, hitting the door. He pushed off and rushed at Steve, who spun around, avoiding him, hitting him with his shield. He fell into the seats in front of Pepper and Natasha, his gun going off, sending three rounds into the cockpit. Steve hit him again, an undercut to the chin with his shield, knocking him out cold.

In the confusion, Pepper slipped out of her seat, Nat close behind her, her hand on her back, pushing her toward the back of the plane. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Ezekiel Stane following them, stumbling out of his seat and up the aisle. They fell through the opening between the two classes, Bucky guiding them away from the melee, pushing them into the aisle behind him. 

Y/N was rushing toward them, rushing toward Steve, pushing past Bucky, who reached for her, but missed, his fingers just grazing her shirtsleeve. Her sole focus seemed to be Steve and getting to him. He yelled at her, yelled at her to not move, to turn back, his heart pounding in fear.

Stane grabbed her, his arm around her throat, his gun pointed at her head. Nat jumped to her feet, crouched in front of Bucky, both of them pointing their guns at Stane. 

“It’s over, Stane, let her go,” Steve said, dropping his shield to his side, moving toward Y/N and Stane.

“It’s far from over, Captain,” Stane replied. “The bomb is armed and I’m still in control of the plane.” He nodded toward the cockpit door. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Steve didn’t hesitate, instead he spun on his heel and threw his shield at the door. It shattered, metal, wood, and plastic flying everywhere. The shield ricocheted back into Steve’s hand, then he flung it again, knocking the hijacker standing in the cockpit to the ground.

“Not anymore,” Steve growled. “Now let her go.”

“There’s still the bomb to contend with,” Stane muttered. “That you can’t stop. I don’t care anymore if it explodes in the air or blows up Stark Tower. As long as the people Tony Stark cares about are destroyed, I’m happy.”

“If that bomb goes off, you’ll die, too,” Nat said.

“I don’t care!” Stane shouted, pressing the gun hard against Y/N’s temple. “If I have to die to destroy Tony Stark, so be it. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

Steve took a step forward, but Stane just tightened the arm he had around Y/N’s neck, pressing it into her windpipe. She struggled, clawing at his arm, desperate to breathe. It was only after Steve took a step back that he loosened his grip. Y/N gasped for air, her face pale, bluish circles beneath her eyes, her eyes filled with pain.

“Drop the shield, Captain,” Stane ordered. “Or she dies.”

Nat threw herself forward, grabbing Y/N around her calves and pulling her to the floor, just as the arrow came from above, piercing Stane’s throat. He dropped the gun, his hands going to his throat, blood covering them. He collapsed back onto the seats, gasping and choking on his own blood.

“Bucky,” Steve yelled, falling to his knees and pulling Y/N into his arms. 

“I’m on it,” Bucky replied, pushing past them, heading for the cockpit.

Clint dropped to the floor from the ceiling above, his bow and arrow in hand, a decided smirk on his face. “Bombs disarmed,” he said.

“Plane’s secure,” Bucky called from the cockpit.

“Call Tony,” Steve said, rising to his feet. “Tell him Pepper’s coming home.”

* * *

“Steve’s girlfriend?” Tony laughed, shaking his head. “Who knew the old man could get himself a girlfriend? And a good looking one at that.”

You squeezed Steve’s hand and blushed, hiding your face against his shoulder.

“Leave her alone, Tony,” Steve grumbled.

“She’s cute, Steve,” he shrugged. “Good choice.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Pepper said. “Let’s leave these two alone. I want to go to bed and sleep for a week.”

“Not sure I’m gonna let you sleep,” Tony mumbled as Pepper dragged him from the room.

Steve closed the door behind them and rested his head against it. He blew out a ragged breath before returning to your side. He took your hand and pulled you down beside him on a small sofa. You let him wrap you in his arms, snuggling against his side.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Ever?” You couldn’t help but smile. You knew he was joking, but you kind of liked this protective side of him. He’d been like this ever since Bucky had landed the plane in New York. He hadn’t let you get more than a few feet away from him for the last twenty-four hours, dragging you to Stark Tower to stay with him, following you around like a lost puppy, keeping as close to you as possible.

“Never,” he growled, catching your lips in his and kissing you breathless.

“Mmm,” you hummed when he finally released you. “I could get used to that.”

“Yeah?” Steve chuckled.

“Yeah,” you nodded, pulling him down to kiss you again. “Definitely.”

 


End file.
